


A Twist on Reality

by missema



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ulfric and a F!Breton DB roleplay a scenario in the throne room in Windhelm.</p><p>A kmeme prompt for the dragonborn performing oral sex on a male Nord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Twist on Reality

The stone seat of his throne was unusually uncomfortable, or perhaps it was just the waiting that was getting to Ulfric. Each second lasted twice as long, every breath taking too long to inhale and release as he sat there, alone. It was night, far past the time when anyone would come to call on him, but he had guards stationed outside of each door to deter interruptions. He had made it clear that short of his palace on fire, he wanted no one to disturb them.  
  
A soft thud alerted him to another presence, and before he had time to look around she'd come into view. Marie, the Breton Dragonborn had entered his line of vision, walking slowly towards him. Without bidding a smile tugged at Ulfric's lips, and he worked to keep it down, to render his face a stern mask as she approached. He looked at her, the long black hair that had been carefully washed and the plaits redone, her short, curvy figure clad in revealing Forsworn armor, a savage bow strapped to her back.  
  
"Halt there, Forsworn. Drop your weapons." Ulfric held up a hand to stop her.  
  
"Do I have a choice, butcher?" She asked, her mouth twisted into an ugly grimace.  
  
"I could kill you." He answered, the words coming out thoughtfully as if he were truly considering it.  
  
With a sigh and a muttered oath, she let the weapons clatter to the ground, and he saw that her quiver was empty. I should fix that, Ulfric though to himself, and this time the smile blossomed on his face though he didn't share his joke with her. It simply looked as if he were smiling at her ready acquiescence.  
  
"Ulfric, long have you murdered the Forsworn, and now you make demands of me, one of the last of my kind. What would you have?" Marie still sounded contemptuous, as if she really were part of the Forsworn, and he was impressed by her performance.  
  
Two were lovers playing a part, acting out a fantasy that had long been brewing in his head. He'd picked this one, from the setting to the clothes, after she'd divulged a fantasy of her own to him.  
  
Throughout his life he'd been many things, studied at the feet of the Greybeards, a soldier, a prisoner, a leader, a jarl. He'd seen men rut with women out of desperation, misery and pity before going into a losing battle. He'd seen people barter with their bodies, pleasures of the flesh traded for something needed. In the past he had sex, some of it deep and meaningful, other times merely convenient, but nothing like he had with Marie.  
  
She'd been reared up in a completely different world, and though he would never call her depraved, she'd witnessed things in Daggerfall he'd never heard of even as a grown man. The courts there took politics to a new level, where everything was fair game, and seduction and deceit were common weapons.  
  
After a short time together, she'd introduced games to their bedroom, teasing and tantalizing Ulfric to a level that had him begging for the mercy of burying himself in her. This was one of their tamer indulgences, but a first for him. It was the first time he'd planned the scenario, and he was already losing himself in playing it out.

"Kneel before me." He commanded and she obeyed, giving him a view of her ample bosom as she did. She had to kneel if he were to maintain this charade, the sight of her smoothly muscled midriff, the sway of her hips with the fur knotted across them were too much for him to endure. Amused grey eyes looked through her thick lashes up at him as he continued. "I would have information, first off. Who are you?"

"Do you not recognize the kin to your greatest enemy? Or perhaps you don't consider the King in Rags your enemy any longer and wouldn't know his wife."

"Ahh, you were Madanach's wife." Ulfric laughed in a deep, pitying rumble. "A Queen in Rags with a husband in absentia."

"I was one of his wives." She clarified, shifting at his feet as she knelt uncomfortably on the stone floor. He looked at the feathers spread across her back from the armor and wished she hadn't bathed. Marie was far too clean to be a true Forsworn, and he doubted they smelled of the jasmine oil she rubbed into her skin to make it soft, but Ulfric overlooked the obvious mistakes in their little play as he pushed on.

"Tell me, now that your husband lies dead, how has life been for you?"

"Much the same as when he was imprisoned." Marie answered acidly, as if she'd truly waited for someone who'd failed to return to her.

"It is a shame you could not have joined him and made a reunion in the prisons of the Reach. I assure you, the prisons of Eastmarch will be far less pleasant than the labors of Cidnha Mine."

"Prison! For what? You captured me and I came along willingly, admitting to no crime. I have done only what you would have done, had the situation been turned around." Marie protested, standing up to look him in the eye.

"No!" Ulfric shouted at her, letting anger saturate his voice. "You did not do what I would have done. I wouldn't have lost." He made a motion that at any other time would have guards pouncing on her, and she acted as if they weren't alone. The movement was understood and she began to look around, as if searching for a way out.

"Please, my Jarl." She begged breathlessly. "Let me go, let me pay my debt to you in the way only I can now that I've lost everything. If it's not to your liking, then let me try again until I get it right." Marie pleaded, struggling against invisible guards. Ulfric beckoned her closer and she stumbled forward, stepping closer to him than he would allow were this real, bringing her face close to his.

"What could you possibly offer me?" He snarled at her, but she didn't retreat from him, enduring his mounting anger. She became supplicant, bowing into him as she bargained for her life.

"The delights of a woman who has had no one to lavish them on for years. Let me show you, pleasure unparalleled, as only the wife of a king can provide." She whispered, warming his skin with her breath and words. Without waiting for him to agree, she kissed him, clapping her mouth fiercely over his.

The discomfort she'd felt earlier when she'd been forced to kneel on the hard stone floor receded to the back of her mind as Marie slid her hands under Ulfric's robes and unlaced his breeches.  He'd been so adamant that she dress as a Forsworn that she'd actually had to go to the Markarth and get some of the armor she'd taken as she reclaimed the Redoubts in the area before becoming Thane.  Fingertips drifted lightly over his deliciously muscled stomach and she felt a moan ripple through him as she exposed his hardened length, pushing away the clothes in her way.

Ulfric's hand plunged down the scant top of her armor making contact with her breast immediately.  Teasing her nipple between two fingers, it tightened almost immediately at his touch, and she gasped as his thumb grazed it.  He was lazy with his touches, knowing that she would please him without any effort of his own, that this particular meeting was solely focused on his desires. 

"Convince me, Forsworn."  He growled.  "And I may spare your life."

"Jarl Ulfric, please."  She murmured, knowing that her pleas would do no good.  Instead she lowered her head, moving her body slightly out of his reach, letting his hand skim over her as she sank her mouth down around his cock.

She felt his head fall back until it landed against the throne, heard the loud moan at the very instant her mouth closed over him, taking his length in the warmth of her mouth.  Marie let a pleased hum form in her throat, and felt him shake as it manifested.  Too early, she chided herself, it was too early for that, and she drew back.  Her tongue traced around the wide head of him, her hands working at the wet shaft.  He was completely rigid before she'd even taken him out of his trousers, and she wondered what it was about their little game that so excited him.  
  
Perhaps it was the control of it all, because Talos knows, Ulfric loved control.  Only in private was he willing to submit, and sometimes only after she coaxed him into it.  Here though, it was his fantasy but her firmly controlling him, every flick of her tongue earning gasp and groans, his body begging wordlessly for her touch.  
  
Tired of teasing, she took as much of him in her mouth as she could, earning a rumbling groan of satisfaction as she did.  Ulfric was a man of no small worth, and her Breton frame was considerably more petite than even the smallest Nord woman.  She imagined that it was part of what had attracted Ulfric to this particular fantasy - she could lend it realism, with her distant genetic relationship to the Forsworn of the Reach.   
  
What she lacked in size she made up for with inventiveness and enthusiasm in all of their endeavors.  It was what made them such good partners, and that charitable thought warmed her as she renewed her attentions, cupping his balls through clothes, wishing she run her tongue over them.  Marie let out a moan of her own as she worked, clever hands wrapped around him, steadily working as she tasted the precursor of his slightly bitter seed on her tongue.   
  
The earlier wine she'd had before entering the room roared through her system and her arousal growing in proportion to Ulfric's.  Alternating between licking and sucking, she listened to him gasp and moan beneath her.  If they were in his bed, she'd have already climaxed and he would be brushing her hands aside, eager to sheath himself in her sopping heat.  Her knees hurt from kneeling on the hard stone floor, but it had become secondary to her desire, the heat building within her.  She could feel herself growing more needy, reflected in her actions as she sucked greedily, tonguing his slit as her hands pumped.  A hum started in the back of her throat, the time more appropriate than before and Marie let the vibrations grow more intense as she continued.  Ulfric was bucking, deep growls mingled with oaths as she felt his cock twitching in her mouth.  He wasn't going to last much longer.

His hands buried in her hair, and she had one fleeting moment of thanks that he hadn't wanted her to wear the Forsworn headdress.  His touch still held tenderness as he urged her on, his hips rising towards her mouth from the confines of his stone throne.  Marie sped up, Ulfric grunting in time to the stroke of her fists, his erection throbbing hotly in her mouth.  Lifting his hips again, he let them surge and rock, pushing further into her, all coherent thought abandoned as he hurtled towards the finish.  In the morning, his rear would bloom with a rainbow of dark bruises, which he considered well-earned marks of war.  
  
"Talos."  He hissed, saying the name between clenched teeth.   
  
She could feel the control he was trying to maintain and gave an another hard suck, making a vacuum behind her swollen lips.  His cock throbbed warningly, and then spilled, heat and bitter filling her mouth.  
  
"Swallow it."  He ordered, trying to regain his menacing tone from earlier.  Marie obliged, drinking down his seed as he continued to come, her hands moving slower, one moving up to touch his stomach.  
  
His body was covered in sweat, his linen underclothes clinging to him as he drew in ragged breaths.  The robes that usually protected him from the cold and served as a badge of honor seemed at once too heavy and needlessly bulky, desiring to be free of them.  Marie was peeling away some of the clothes, kissing his overheated skin, the touch welcome but almost too much.  
  
When she stood to kiss him, he grabbed her wrists, making her face him.  "If I spare you, Forsworn, will you swear your fealty to me and only me for the rest of your life?"  
  
"I cannot."  Marie said defiantly.  "Not yet.  If you are truly a King, then you must claim me as your own."  Her eyes sparkled as she said it, her teasing breaking through the hazy remnants of his climax.  
  
"Oh, you wish for me to take you?"  He was almost amused at her defiance, but it only made his tone darker.  
  
"It's the only way I could do as you ask."  
  
He looked at her for a moment, then stood, tucking himself back into his robes in a leisurely manner, if he hadn't a care in Tamriel.  Marie stood, waiting, looking up at him for a sign.  Without warning, Ulfric plucked her from the ground as if she weighed nothing, and carried her over to the large banquet table.   
  
Laying her on the edge, he pushed aside the fur skirt of her armor as if it annoyed him, and slid a large finger past her smallclothes, into her sex.  He smirked but said nothing, preferring the sound of her moans as he stroked her.  His fingers slid around her pearl, circling, teasing, before plunging into her and out again, covering his hand in her wetness.  Marie could feel herself arching up towards him, gripping the sides of the table with her hands.  
  
The winter wind whistled through the hall, cooling her exposed midriff, but not stopping the sweat that had sprang out in beads over her body, making her skin shine.  Ulfric watched with an amused detachment, feeling her body responding to his touches, one hand placed on her stomach to keep her from becoming too wild as he worked.  
  
And then, like the true beast he was, he stopped.  Withdrawing his hand, he watched her puzzled expression as she registered the loss of his touch, opening dreamy eyes to question him.  
  
"I think you still need to surrender."  Ulfric said in a cool voice.  
  
"I surrender.  I surrender!"  She was nearly crying, panting with unreleased need.  
  
"Good."  He answered.  "You can meet me in my quarters to talk about the terms."  
  
With that, he swept from the hall, leaving Marie panting against the polished wood table.  When it was her next turn, she was going to chain him in the dungeon for leaving her on the table, panting and unfulfilled.  At least, she thought as she sat up, their games were going to his far more comfortable quarters.  Adjusting her ragged armor, she stood and followed Ulfric, wondering what was next in store.

**Author's Note:**

> It ends here because the OP only asked for oral sex, and I thought I had sort of done enough to manipulate the prompt without going further than was asked. Perhaps in the future I'll add a follow up to this scene.


End file.
